


A Favor For A Favor

by Moria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Biology, Enemy Lovers, F/F, Heat Cycles, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-07 09:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moria/pseuds/Moria
Summary: Pidge finds Haggar in a weakened state, but instead of killing the witch, she takes on a more...diplomatic approach.





	A Favor For A Favor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DuaeCat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuaeCat/gifts).



The lighting of the halls were always nearly blinding each time she had to spend more than a few minutes inside one of their fleets. Violet walls, violet-hued lighting, violet emblems of the dying Empire…Pidge had to wonder just how bad the green afterimages were on their eyes, how long they lasted, and if that were the reason why some of the levels contained green lighting, to somehow balance out the overkill of violet. Or perhaps their eyes contained a whole different set of rods and cones to humans; it wouldn’t be impossible to assume so.

But, she didn’t have time to stand there and figure out Galra eyesight, as interesting as the question proposed itself to be. The mission at hand meant stealth, full awareness, and the ability to hack without detection. 

The halls were eerily devoid of sentries or guards. Most had been dispatched for the diversion caused by the other paladins and the rebels while Pidge, Matt, and Olia were left to deal with central command; Pidge herself was to infiltrate the fleet while the others stood on standby in Green. They had agreed that Pidge would go alone and if backup were needed, they were at the ready.

So far, so good. 

Pidge needed to enter the main control room to rewire the systems. It would enable her to remotely reprogram all sentries at once, and if all goes to plan, they would point their lasers at their fleet commanders. Then Pidge would make a quick getaway and the Galra Empire would crumble to dust. About ten dozen commanding officials, ten times as vile as Sendak and Haxus had been, all gunned down in one fell swoop. 

It would be like reprogramming Rover from registering her as ‘foe’ to ‘friend,’ except on a much wider scale. Sweet.

She thought she heard a sound, some soft moan that was instantly stifled as she rounded a corner. Instinct pushed her flat against the wall, shrouded in shadows, listening carefully. 

The sound didn’t come again, and after assuring herself of the coast being clear, she resumed her path with vigilance. 

Two more levels, her computer said. Two more and she would reach the control station. She wasn’t sure what to expect when she’d get there. For all she knew, the place could be swarming with sentries or guards. They wouldn’t leave that place unattended. Although she wasn’t picking up on any biorhythms from that level, that only ruled out no commanders on deck. 

She was halfway down the hall when the sound reached her ears again. 

_Is someone injured?_ she wondered and froze in her tracks, bayard at the ready. The sound was a little louder this time, and the pain in the voice unmistakable. 

Checking for biorhythms and sentries, she confirmed that it was only herself and the one other individual on this level. She calculated from which room the suffering being was behind and gingerly made her way towards it. Prisoner? Experiment of the witch? A trap? Her fingers gripped tighter around her bayard.

To her surprise, the door was already slid open when she approached, and within it—her heart dropped. 

It was Haggar. The witch stood doubled over a sink, her face oddly flushed and her normally blue-tinged skin appearing more plum-colored under the light, tinged so as to give the hint of fever. Sweat trickled down her forehead. Her breathing came labored, and she had not given any indication that she noticed Pidge had entered the room. Instead her eyes were poised on herself in the mirror as if in a disturbed trance, her face clearly troubled. Her mouth occasionally mumbled through words Pidge couldn’t make out. 

Pidge took a step back when she caught a whiff of the witch’s scent. 

Oh. _Oh._

With that glaring clue floating around her like a cloud, Pidge couldn’t deny what was happening to ail the witch Haggar. 

Pidge hadn’t taken much time to study the breeding habits of Galra and Alteans; and asking Princess Allura about her people’s mating rituals wasn’t exactly fitting conversation to bring up at dinner nor at strategy meetings. _And_ Alteans seemed the sort of blushing Victorian types when it came to the subject of sex; they virtually obliterated all mention of it in their libraries (not that Pidge had searched for it.) She had only assumed they procreated as humans had. When Lance had told her about Allura and Coran’s weird reaction towards discovering the source of milkshakes, she had assumed it was merely some culture shock. Altea didn’t have cows or anything resembling them, and so Alteans didn’t live off the milk of another mammal. Easy. She assumed reproduction was still similar. 

But clearly it wasn’t; there was something more to Alteans. Despite the eerily similar body structure of Alteans, Galra, and humans, they were clearly not the same, and especially when it came to sex. 

Pidge’s family owned dogs. She knew a thing or two about mating cycles. And if she had to guess anything, she would guess after Zarkon’s death, it had left Haggar without a partner to mate with. 

Yes. That was clearly the name the witch kept mumbling; Pidge could hear it now. The scent of desire, of need, growing ever desperate, clung to her thick as a veil. Without Zarkon, she must have been trying to ease the desire in some way on her own. But apparently nothing would ease her. Zarkon’s death had left Haggar vulnerable in more ways than one. She was in the midst of a heat cycle, suffering and needing release, and without any alternative. 

They _were_ married for over ten thousand years, after all. The sudden absence has got to be unbearable, maddening. 

And possibly even, weakening. Pidge wasn’t certain how she could tell. She hadn’t fought with Haggar herself, but from images of the Altean witch that she had seen on holograms had always given way to a woman, though hunched and small in stature, full of purpose and power. This was the same woman standing just a few paces from her, far more vulnerable.

Her magic was diminishing. All effort had dissolved into a problem she could not fix with either magic nor quintessence. 

Pidge raised her bayard as she chewed on her lips. This was her chance. Haggar was at her weakest she or anyone else would have ever seen her. 

And Pidge could end her right here. 

Or…that was one choice. She could kill the witch. Or force her to give Pidge entry into the main control room. Like this, Pidge could easily overpower Haggar. 

Or possibly… _a favor for a favor_. 

Pidge’s breath hitched as the suggestion crossed her thoughts. 

_Why would you think that?_

With one strike Pidge could take her down and eliminate the biggest threat of the Galra Empire to the Voltron Coalition. Not hassle, no mess. Just a quiet, painless, quick end for the witch, and Pidge could be on her way. 

But she could not bring herself to strike Haggar down. The lady, already so small, stood shaking with desperate need, so frail, so weak. Pity stayed Pidge’s hand. 

Sighing, Pidge deactivated her bayard and slipped it back into place. She couldn’t do this. And especially not with a voice whispering in the back of her mind, and it wasn’t just the talk of mercy. _A favor for a favor_. No, it wasn’t her mind thinking straight, but another organ just a few inches below her navel. 

She swallowed thickly as Haggar gave another soft moan, nearly pleading for anything—anyone—to take her. 

Pidge should have been disturbed by her own body’s response to the witch’s moans, especially one so ancient compared to herself. She had seldom spent any time with the other students back at the Garrison. Her attention were always on her studies, especially once her brother had gotten in. After her father and Matt went missing, all of her focus went in searching for the truth. All thought of socialization went out the window, no matter how much Lance and Hunk tried to convince her to break curfew with them.

While all of her attention on her studies and on the mystery of the Holt men’s disappearance, Pidge’s body and mind continued to grow; she had entered adulthood unaware. She’d never allowed herself to just…explore. Be like the others. She didn’t go to parties, kiss, goof off, get drunk and wake up in someone else’s bed. And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious of the act. 

_But like this? In the middle of a war? With the enemy? An alien enemy? Are you fucking crazy?_

Pidge had to smirk. 

This…this could be exciting. Another species, someone so ancient, a different mating ritual than the human experience. And with the enemy to boot. It would be like a Lovecraftian story smashed against one of the raunchy romance novels her mother kept behind her books on digital modulation techniques in the basement. 

It would allow Pidge the chance to explore how alien anatomy might feel against her naked body, compare if Altean nipples were the same as that of humans, see if what made her wet would be the same for Haggar. She imagined something slippery like a tongue protruding from Haggar’s folds and rub her throbbing wet clit; she shivered. 

This would be for a good cause. She could help calm Haggar, and as payback, Haggar would have to let her to the central command. 

_Wait_ , Pidge stopped short. _Are you actually thinking of…_

She swallowed thickly and peered towards Haggar nervously. How would she get Haggar to agree to this? How could she even _approach_ her? 

Why was she even thinking of this? It had to be the scent coming from Haggar, seeking another mate. It was clouding her thoughts—Pidge wasn’t entirely aware of liking women, though she supposed she must have, and really really must have from the way her entire body grew hot at the thought of her body against hers. 

With each moment, Pidge was painfully aware of how wet she was becoming. Maybe if she got close enough, Haggar would be able to smell it off her. She’d know what Pidge was offering her was genuine. 

Producing her bayard again, and checking that her communicator was on silent, she stepped inside. 

Haggar was hunched over, panting and looking like she was close to fainting when Pidge approached, bayard raised towards her.

“Are you okay?” Pidge asked as she lowered her bayard. 

Haggar hissed and made to attack; a ball of magical energy formed into her hands but it faded as soon as it appeared. She sighed and coughed before giving a pained moan. 

“You seem unwell,” Pidge said. “I won’t fight you if we’re unmatched.” She approached as close as she possibly could, hoping the witch could get a good whiff of her scent. “Hey, just because we’re on opposite sides of the battlefield doesn’t mean we have to try killing one another. I won’t hurt you when you seem ill. And…yeah…you really do not seem well. Is there anything I can do?” 

No reply. 

“Do you need me to carry you back to the Castle? Not as a prisoner but as a _friend_. I promise I won’t hurt you. Just be honest with me. I’m willing to do anything you want. Erm, you know… _anything_.” 

She removed her glove and placed it over Haggar’s, hoping it would achieve the intended affect. To her mixed delight, for fear was also mingled with that hope, Haggar’s eyes gleamed with need. 

She gripped Pidge’s head on both side of her helmet and pulled her in for a lingering kiss, her teeth sharp against Pidge’s lower lip, before pushing her back. 

“You know what it is I seek,” she hissed in a low voice, full of accusation but also the understanding. 

Pidge gasped. Her heart hammered as more warmth spread between her legs. “I am willing to do anything you wish…for a f-favor in return.”

Haggar’s eyes narrowed. 

She had been worried that would be the turning point where Haggar would kill her for daring to use this against her, but instead she smiled coyly. 

“You are cunning, paladin,” she said. “What is it that you seek?” 

“Entry,” Pidge said. “This fleet is heading towards an exploding star. We have two hours before we can steer it, but the fleet’s captain has been killed, and reports have shown the main engine has broken down. Only I can reconfigure the fleet to go into hyperdrive and move away from the star. But I’ll need access to get inside. I tried opening the door earlier, but it’s locked.

“What do you say? I help you achieve…whatever you need, and you help me get inside. Neither of us have to die. Neither of us will. We don’t have to remain friends afterwards. Just…help one another here.” 

She didn’t know if Haggar would see through her story, as the witch’s eyes were narrowed, but the corners of her mouth curled. 

She stood up and with a twitch of her hand, Pidge felt herself rise and get carried over to where Haggar motioned. 

The bed. Haggar’s bed. Of course, it was her private quarters Pidge had found her in. Somehow this made her gasp and want to laugh. It was really happening, and she was terrified and exhilarated all at once. 

Another motion of Haggar’s hand, and Pidge plopped over the bed. A moment later and Haggar was straddling her. The long thin hand caressed her abdomen, and Pidge sucked in a whimper at the touch; even through the heavy mesh of her black clothing, the touch set her mind ablaze. Perhaps it was the Altean scent affecting her mind, but each touch was driving her closer to the edge. 

Haggar curled her fingers over the mesh, the tips of her long sharp nails briefly tickling Pidge before the items of her paladin armor responded to the witch’s command. One by one they lifted off and toppled to the ground: helmet, chest plate, vambraces, greaves, the black mesh…

She inched back and tugged on her own robes, letting Pidge watch as her outer robe slid offer her shoulders, revealing long silvery white hair that framed her delicate face. She slipped off her long tunic, and Pidge released a soft moan. Thin red marks lined the shape of her hips, over her thighs, abdomen, under her breasts…they glowed faintly, almost plum against the blue-purple skin. As the robes slid off, they brushed over Pidge’s bare sensitive body, and she shivered. 

Pidge’s eyes traveled down and swallowed heavily. _Well. This is really happening._

With a hungry look in her eyes, Haggar pushed Pidge’s legs apart with her knee as she slid back over her, and Pidge gasped as their mounds rubbed together. She hadn’t much experience ‘flying solo’ but this was already something decidedly more intense. Something wet like a tongue brushed over her wet folds and swept over to her clit, and she gave a sharp cry of surprise. Haggar gripped her arms. 

She was pinned against the bed, and Haggar was rocking hard against her. Something large and wet was pushing against her clit, and was that also a sucking motion? She thought she felt that, something closing around her and giving her swollen clit the occasional suckle that got her eyes rolling into her skull and her legs spreading as wide as they could to get more of what the witch was giving her. 

“Breathe.” 

“What?” 

“Breathe, foolish paladin,” Haggar repeated. “The agreement was none of us will die. The oxygen will make the pleasure greater.” 

Pidge’s face flushed and took in great gulps of air. Haggar was right; the pleasure shot through her in quick waves.

Haggar chuckled. “Clearly a novice.”

Pidge flushed. “I’m learning!” 

An idea flitted through her mind, and she reached up to kiss Haggar’s cheek, tentatively at first, shy and uncertain if she would welcome something intimate beyond their agreement. She didn’t pull away, so Pidge slid her hands over one breast, caressing a nipple. As a reward she felt something from within Haggar slid out and brushed against Pidge’s opening. She gasped out, her eyes widening as something wet and slippery slipped in. 

Pidge’s lips found their way over to Haggar’s ear. Haggar rocked hard against Pidge, and as stars burst before her eyes, she licked and suckled on Haggar’s earlobe. Haggar hissed with clear delight and quickened her pace— _okay, so Alteans do like it here, Pidge mused and nearly climaxed while thinking of Allura._

Haggar’s grip on her tightened, possibly even more than before, as she was pounded into the mattress before Haggar’s entire body shook with the wave of her orgasm; it reverberated into Pidge’s body, and she followed soon after, crying out with each crashing wave. She must have had multiple. She was so sensitive that with each brush against Haggar’s body, she must have peaked again. By the end, she felt sore, yet elated. 

But before she could take a better look at Haggar’s pussy, she had already slid away and tucked herself back in her inner robes, obviously not wishing to be seen in such manner after the ordeal. She fell back on the bed, panting lightly, but otherwise the pain and illness from before was already subsiding. 

Not sure what to do, Pidge moved slightly, and Haggar, getting the hint, slipped back over towards her, into her arms. Her bones filled Pidge’s arms, and she winced slightly. For someone so infamously powerful her body felt hollow and frail. Ancient in every sense of the word. 

They remained as such for some time. As the afterglow subsided, Pidge resumed to counting the ticks in her head, keeping track of how much time they had before she had to make her next move. She could feel the power return to Haggar, and she had to move fast before Matt and the others never saw her again. 

The witch was still half asleep as Pidge gingerly wiggled her way out of bed and slipped her armor back on. 

When Haggar awoke, it was to the sight of a green glowing bayard posed towards her neck. 

“Hey, just wanting to make sure you keep your part of our deal,” Pidge said. “We’re still about to hit that exploding sun, remember?” 

Haggar’s eyes narrowed and she growled dangerously. 

“A favor for a favor,” Pidge reminded her in a stern voice. “You’re now in my debt, and if this fleet doesn’t go in hyperdrive soon, everyone in here will burn, including the coffin that still has Zarkon in it!” 

Haggar’s eyes flashed. She stood up and placed on her outer robes. 

“Follow me,” she hissed. 

Pidge drew a steady sigh of relief. 

She didn’t know how long it would be before Haggar found out the truth. But by then she would be long, long away from here.


End file.
